


the things we say in the dark

by JediAnnieScrambler



Series: in her bed [2]
Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Help this got a plot, Hurt/Comfort, Lap Sex, Sharing a Bed, canon rape mention, it was supposed to be a cute one shot but it this is the sequel and it has FEELINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediAnnieScrambler/pseuds/JediAnnieScrambler
Summary: After Rachel crawls in Quinn's lap she needs something that only Quinn can help her with, then she tells a secret.(S3 AU where Quinn puts a stop to August and Rachel’s flitting by going to Rachel, not August)





	the things we say in the dark

“Rachel when you get this, call me back,” Quinn said, leaving the third voicemail, “You’re scaring me.”

 

Rachel had been sleeping in her bed evened since Quinn had caught her with August, but she’d been sticking to her vow of celibacy, much to Quinn’s disappointment. Oh sure, Rachel was happy to give, more than once Quinn had ended up sprawled out on her bed, sated and trembling with the pleasure Rachel’s tongue brought her, but Rachel would always push Quinn’s hands away when she tried to return the favor. It was getting annoying.

 

On top of that, Rachel had been talking to Dr. Simon, admittedly that was why Quinn had hired him, but she was beginning to get the feeling that it wasn’t having a positive effect on Rachel.

 

Then, with a shake and a slam of the door, Rachel was there. She stood still, back pressed against the glass door, staring at Quinn with these lost girl eyes Quinn had unfortunately come to know all too well.

 

“Rachel?”

 

Suddenly, Rachel moved from the door to sit on the couch beside Quinn only glancing at her for a moment before she laid down on the couch, head in Quinn’s lap.

 

Quinn froze in surprise. She watched as Rachel turned her face in against Quinn’s legs and began to cry, sobs causing her to shake. Setting her glass of whiskey down, Quinn gently petted Rachel’s hair.

 

They stayed like that for a long time, Rachel crying until she couldn’t cry anymore, and Quinn stoking her hair, letting her. Once Rachel had cried all her tears, she sat up, wiping her face with the tissues Quinn offered her.

 

Quinn reaches out to gently cup Rachel’s face, her thumb running across Rachel’s cheek. Rachel didn’t meet her gaze. She lifted her own hand to cover Quinn’s.

 

“Rachel,” said Quinn softly, at a loss for words. Rachel’s shoulders shook as she tried to control her breathing.

 

Finally, Rachel looked up, holding Quinn’s eyes for a moment before leaning into kiss her. It was a slow kiss, the kind that Quinn would never admit made her weak in the knees. Crawling back into Quinn’s lap, Rachel deepened the kiss, cupping Quinn’s face in both hands.

 

“I need you,” Rachel gasped between kisses, “I need you, Quinn, please.”

 

“I’m here,” Quinn’s hands wrapped around Rachel’s waist, anchoring her, “I’m here, I got you.”

 

“I need to feel you,” Rachel grabbed Quinn’s hand, pushing it under her shirt, “I want to feel you inside me, please.”

 

She shed her blazer, then pulled her turtleneck up and off. Ducking her head, Rachel pressed hungry kisses along Quinn’s throat, “I need you,” she repeated over and over.

 

“Rachel, slow down,” Quinn said but Rachel was taking her hand again and unbuttoning her jeans.

 

Quinn wanted her so badly, but it was too fast, it wasn’t right. There was something wrong. Rachel usually hid her tears not sobbed in Quinn’s arms. Something happened that she wasn’t telling her.

 

“Please, Quinn please,” Rachel begged, “I need this, I need this please. I need _you_.”

 

“Okay, Okay I’ve got you,” the words were out of her mouth before Quinn could think.

 

Rachel was fast, leaving Quinn’s lap long enough to shimmy out of her jeans. She straddled her again, one hand in Quinn’s hair, the other guiding Quinn’s hand between her legs. Quinn curled two fingers, sliding them past Rachel’s underwear and into her.

 

A breathy moan slipped from Rachel’s mouth. Slowly at first, then finding a steady pace she began to fuck herself on Quinn’s hand, Quinn adding a third finger as she moved to match the pace. Rachel’s eyes were wide open, forehead pressed against Quinn’s.

 

Quinn’s eyes were unfocused as she watched Rachel above her. Each breathe Rachel took was growing more erratic. With her free hand, Quinn ran her hand through Rachel’s hair. She tilted her head up and kissed the corner of Rachel’s mouth.

 

“I’ve got you,” Quinn whispered, “That’s my girl.”

 

It seems as if Quinn’s words had pushed her over the edge. Rachel’s fingers dug into Quinn’s shoulders and her inner walls tightened around Quinn’s hand as her body trembled with an orgasm. Her mouth dropped open in pleasure. Then Rachel sunk into Quinn’s arms, burying her face in the curve of Quinn’s neck.

 

Quinn wrapped both arms around Rachel, holding her as close as she could. Rachel trembled. Blinking back tears, Quinn rocked her, murmuring soft words against her temple. They sat, clinging to each other, for what felt like a long time before Rachel lifted her head enough to look at Quinn.

 

“Get dressed,” Quinn said softly, pressing a kiss to Rachel’s forehead, “We’re going home for the night.”

 

…

 

Rachel could feel Quinn watching her like she was a feral cat, some wild creature that was going to bolt at any moment.

 

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, Rachel felt herself pick the words that would have the most bite, the most hurt behind them, “Like I’m crazy.”

 

“You’re not crazy, Rachel,” the response was immediate, but Quinn turned to look at her as she stopped at the light, “You are scaring me though.”

 

“I’m fine,” Rachel lied, “I just had a bad day.”

 

The words felt weak on her tongue and worse hanging in the air. She was not fine. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest in the passenger side of Quinn’s SUV, flinching away from any sliver of light that fell across her face.

 

“Crying in my arms then begging me to fuck you after- what three months? -of celibacy isn’t a bad day. When you have a bad day, you pick a fight with me, that’s it,” Quinn turned back to the road.

 

Rachel looked out the window. She silently watched trees passed in the darkness, until Quinn pulled into her driveway. She followed Quinn inside, but diverged to climb the stairs, feeling Quinn’s eyes on her until she disappeared from view.

 

When Rachel emerged from the shower she found Quinn already in bed. Without looking up from her tablet, she reached to the bedside table and wordlessly offered Rachel a full mug of now warm tea. Rachel glanced at Quinn’s empty glass of whiskey as she took the tea. A year ago it would have been a surprise, Quinn making her tea, but now, ever since Quinn had brought her home, the gentle and domestic gesture felt normal. Quinn had always been protective of her, possessive, and this was another facet of it.

 

Quinn was, of course, still Quinn and proved that point by looking up at her and saying, “You look like shit.”

 

Rachel crawled into bed next to her, sitting with the mug in both hands. She was still stewing, still playing back the nights events over and over again. In her mind she was still there, on the sidewalk outside of his house. She was still in her childhood bedroom, with him above her.

 

Quinn put her tablet away, reaching over to tuck a piece of Rachel’s hair behind her ear, “Are you going to be okay to work tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Rachel said, setting her mug on the table, “I’m, uh, sorry for freaking out.”

 

She moved across the gap between them to lay her head on Quinn’s chest. Two months ago, this would have been unheard of, only a soft fantasy Rachel would let herself occasionally indulge in. But after Quinn caught her with August that first night, they’d been sleeping in the same bed almost every night and things had shifted. The invisible wall separating them was gone and in the privacy of Quinn’s home the embraced without hesitation.

 

Quinn stroked Rachel’s hair. Her other hand rested on Rachel’s arm that was wrapped around her middle.

 

“You scared me,” Quinn said. Rachel shut her eyes, her body finally relaxing from the day’s events.

 

“What happened?” asked Quinn.

 

“I shouldn’t, she said I can’t,” Rachel whispered, “She said if anyone knew, no one would love me.”

 

The hand in her hair stilled, and Rachel felt Quinn sigh, “After everything we’ve done, do you really think anything you’d say would make me stop- would change anything?”

 

Rachel’s hand gripped Quinn’s pajama top. For what felt like hours she couldn’t speak, until Quinn turned off the bedside lamp.

 

“I, uh, I went to see one of my mom’s old patients tonight,” Rachel said, “She used to have group therapy sessions at home, like weird sexual stuff.”

 

Quinn made a soft mmm sound as she began to play with Rachel’s hair again. Her fingertips moved lower, drawing patterns on the back of Rachel’s neck.

 

“And there was one night, after one of his therapy sessions, that he came upstairs to my room,” the words stuck in her mouth at first, but then everything came out at once, a tangled mess of words and halting breaths, “And he said that it was my fault and that I said I was fifteen but I don’t remember and he said it was my fault-”

 

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Quinn said, arms tightening around Rachel, “Deep breath, you’re safe now.”

 

“I was twelve,” Rachel didn’t realize she was crying again until she’d began to get Quinn’s shirt wet, “We had sex and he said it was my fault and mom said it was my fault.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Rachel could feel Quinn’s lips move against the top of her head, “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

 

“But he said-”

 

“Hey, who are you going to believe, that creepy who likes little girls? Or me?” Quinn’s tone was gruff but the tension in Rachel’s shoulders dissipated. It was exactly what she needed.

 

“You,” she breathed.

 

“That’s my girl.”


End file.
